Fashion retooled: buying your first house

In honor of regular reader Amanda telling us how she’s looking for her first house, I thought I’d share the story I did about the (relentless) search for my first home.

My basement. It’s a true dichotomy. Each time I go down the stairs, I think how those stairs, that railing, the damp-in-the-summer space belongs to me. It’s my place to store bins of off-season clothing, a haven for my skis, in-line skates, golf clubs, basketball and board games and a laundry area that doesn’t require quarters.

It also happens to house a spare (and unused) refrigerator that doesn’t fit up the narrow stairway, an out-of-commission well pump and a furnace as large as two Dumpsters and so old the maintenance company told me it should be condemned. It’s my mix of freedom and independence (it belongs to me!) and fear and responsibility (it belongs to me).

Before buying my first home – three bedrooms, one story, on a cul-de-sac – about a year ago at the age of 25, I was a clothes-and-accessories-obsessed, Neiman Marcus catalog kind of girl, pretty free of mixed emotion.

Now, when I see the Lowe`s flier in with my other mail, I have a moment of indecision.
Do I check out designer duds or faucets and fixtures?

Before signing those closing papers, Lowe`s would have ended up in the recycle bin and I would have leafed through all the latest runway-ready fashions before even taking my coat off.
Priorities changed. I`m more practical now.

Take Christmas, for instance. I wanted a toolbox, tool belt and electric sander. I got those, and some other home-related items. I was excited, at first, then I watched as my sister modeled her new clothes and handbag for my family and I felt a little disappointed. A tool belt just isn`t as sexy as a new skirt.

But then there`s that recent gift from my grandparents – new windows for my whole house.
The night after they were installed, I went home and stood in every room, admiring my ability to see outside (too much paint and unidentifiable muck had been on the old windows), as if I had just had laser eye surgery. Oh, and these babies actually opened and closed, unlike the 50-plus-year-old panes. As for the constant draft … gone.

This was all a cause for celebration. I called my friends, my sister, a co-worker. They hadn`t seen me this excited since I got front-row seats to a Dave Matthews Band concert.

“Kristi, what`s happening to you?” I heard more than once.

You know, I`m not 100 percent sure. On the one hand, I love the feeling of homeownership. I feel mature, independent, that I`m doing something financially sound by not paying rent. On the other hand, it`s been a year of repairs, drips, leaks and (minor) renovations.

I go on vacation and worry about frozen pipes, stopping my mail and newspaper and letting my neighbors know that when the snow starts piling up in my driveway and walkways, I haven`t died.

And, when it comes right down to it, owning a home makes me feel a little stuck, trapped, committed.

Like a relationship wrought with unease. Uncertainty.

That uncertainty extends to finances as well. In the past, my monthly bills were fixed, surprises not my responsibility and any disposable income went toward a designer handbag, a weekend away, a manicure and pedicure. Now I think, “Why get a manicure when it`ll only end up chipped by tomorrow?”

That`s what happens when pipes need replacing, a driveway needs shoveling, doors have to be sanded and painted.

Sneakers meant for work are another thing I never would have thought about before having a mortgage. I had what I thought of as the super-cute-goes-well-with-jeans-or-cords Puma sneakers and my gym sneaks. Both were dust-free and fine.

After rototilling my entire yard last summer (well, with the help of my father) my gym sneakers, now coated in mud inside and out, started a whole new footwear collection.
Actually, I have a new clothing group, too. In the past, I`d wear things for a season or two and pack it up for the Salvation Army.

Now, though, I`ve noticed the value of those not-so-great-shorts or that bright pink tank top: they fall in the painting/ working outside/ripping-up-the-bathroom floor/clothing category.
Being the fashion hound that I am, I`d think I`d welcome the opportunity for a whole new attire group, but really, it`s just a little overwhelming.

More than that, it`s so something my parents and other “adults” had.

I guess it`s time to admit, though, I am an adult. Worse than that: I`m turning into my mother. Well, at least I worry I`m adopting some of her homemaking habits.

Wear your muddy shoes on my newly refinished hardwood floors or lean on the just painted walls and, well, I really want you to suffer a fate worse than missing a clearance sale at Bloomingdale`s. But, for now, I keep my mouth shut.

Sometimes, though, the adult in me comes out. Like when it has to. Earlier in the winter I found a dead mouse who needed a burial place, preferably outside of my basement where I found him.

I`ve seen my father remove a mouse or two from my parents` basement and I always hid till it was disposed of.

But letting the little rodent rot and fester in my home seemed a lot nastier than the alternative.
So I held my breath, closed my eyes and blindly scooped up the mouse and took him out to the woods. But not before finding my favorite pair of (bright pink) work gloves.

24 Responses

Priorities do change when you have a house; it becomes much more important to have “rainy day money” (especially if it’s a possibility that the rainy day could cause a roof leak). We’ve foregone vacations, evenings out, etc. because the house is always a moving target; you just never know what will break and when you’ll suddenly have to drop hundreds (or thousands) of dollars that you didn’t anticipate.

BUT, if you think that the house has you losing sleep and changing priorities, just wait until (if) you have a child! The money goes fast and furiously… and makes the house seem like an accessory.

In the life stages, I thought that buying a house and then having a child was a good progression; buying a house breaks you in to the whole concept of financial responsibility, then having a child cements it.

Home ownership teaches responsibility in a big way. You have to have a disciplined and systematic way of saving money to cover those little (or big), surprises that pop up unexpectedly. But once you have it, you have a place to hang out. After the date!

Congrats Amanda!! It is a very exciting and stressful experience. Being in the business I see it alot – you just need to ask alot of questions. Just think of home ownership as a savings account. Good luck!

You don’t really have to hold your breath for a dead mouse. They are very tiny and would not appreciably smell up your basement.

I didn’t sign a mortgage until I was 43. Did I feel like I had gone thru a delayed adolescence? No. I was in a profession that valued mobility and wasn’t all that lucrative. I moved 7 times in 10 years. I can not imagine trying to coordinate buying and selling a house each time.

Make sure the roof doesn’t leak and the toilets flush. If you gots that covered, time to break out a brewski.

I could totally relate to this post. I always thought “adults” just had the “yardwork clothes” and somehow mine would be cuter. But I’m finding myself caring less about my outfit and more about the mulch.

I’m 25 and looking to build a house on a lot I inherited and you hit the nail on the head– it’s like I’m getting into a long-term relationship, one I am gonna have to really work on to make it livable! I’m inspired though- you can do it, maybe I can! No better time than now with the low mortgage rates, $8,000 credit, and my incessantly annoying neigbors playing guitar hero…

Makes sense… we have an old refrigerator in our basement, too – I think it must technically fit up the stairs, but we haven’t tried because the pain-in-the-neck factor is more onerous than getting it out of the basement. Would be a much better story, though, if the house had been built around the refrigerator… you’d also have a friendly repair man living in your basement if that were the case (ala Mike Mulligan). I think we would all like one of those!

I am in my late 40’s and I still live in an apt w/annoying tenants. I recently inherited a small farm house in the country. Not sure I want to live out there though after living in Albany for 20 years. Some people think I am nuts not to move into it. It will be a lifestyle change for sure….any thoughts?